It is the quiet of the day that we hear loudly
before the television tells us that the world is burning,
and as the smoking corpses are shown in the news,
we drink our coffee thinking of silence.
Take in what the pixels show us in the paper
while we wait for the bus to arrive
we are part of a meltdown in progress
and there always is coffee at five.
As soon as it is light, I am walking in cold air,
dressed appropriately for the early hour of the day
not for the cold though, of that I am well aware.
Off I go to feed the birds outdoors and see
them showing off in plastic colours green and blue
waiting with contempt for the softy likes of me.
One old blackbird, shy, grey and picked at to the skin,
is watching me, approvingly for what I bring
shiv’ring in my pink thingy that is way too thin.
I also wear an old sweater someway next to grey
above green willies in a too big husband size
completing my outfit in a practical way.
The pretty birds rush off, high giggling from the sight
when humbly I put down the food for them to have,
so not the grey bird. She does stay and takes a bite.
So I am a killer for the hottest passion
but I do think that both the bird and I agree:
let them laugh as Winter is no time for fashion.
this pic was made a few days ago when snow was gone, tomorrow there will be snow again as well as frost.
I hope to be able to make pictures of the birds then, in the snow, eating!